Lanark_ a life in 4 books - Alasdair Gray [187]
Monboddo strode onward to the throne, the cape billowing behind him. Most of his retinue followed.
Wilkins was a dark, short, compact man. He said, “What seems to be the problem?”
Munro said crisply, “Mr. Lanark does not know what relocation involves. He has asked to leave. I have found a city whose government will take him in spite of his poor record. He refuses to go because of the climate.”
Lanark said obstinately, “I want sunlight.”
“Would Provan suit you?” asked Wilkins.
“I know nothing of Provan.”
“It is an industrial centre surrounded by farming country but in easy distance of highlands and sea. The climate is mild and damp with a yearly average of twelve hours’ sunlight per day. The inhabitants speak a kind of English.”
“Yes, we’ll go there gladly.”
Munro said, “Provan won’t take him. Provan was the first place I asked.”
Wilkins said, “Provan will have to take him if he goes to Unthank first.”
Munro rubbed his chin and began to smile. “Of course. I had forgotten.”
Wilkins turned to Lanark and said smoothly, “Industrially speaking, you see, Unthank is no longer profitable, so it is going to be scrapped and swallowed. In a piecemeal way we’ve been doing that for years, but now we can take it en bloc and I don’t mind telling you we’re rather excited. We’re used to eating towns and villages but this will be the first big city since Carthage and the energy gain will be enormous. Of course people like you who’ve joined us already won’t need to go through that messy business again. You’ll be moved to Provan, which has a lively expanding economy. So visit Unthank with a clear mind. Think of it as a stepping stone to the sun.”
“But how long will we have to live there?”
Wilkins glanced at his wristwatch.
“In eight days a full meeting of council delegates will give the go-ahead. We start work two days after.”
“Then Rima and I will be in Unthank for twelve days?”
“No longer. Only a revolution can change our programme now.”
“But I’ve heard Unthank is a more political place nowadays. Are you sure a revolution can’t happen?”
Wilkins smiled.
“I meant that only a revolution here can change our programme.”
“But have I no other choices?”
“Stay with us if you like. We can find work for you. Or leave and just wander about. Space is infinite to men without destinations.”
Lanark groaned and said, “Rima, what should we do?”
She shrugged impatiently.
“Oh, don’t ask me! You know I like it here and that hasn’t influenced you so far. But I refuse to wander about in space. If you want to do that you can do it alone.”
Lanark said in a subdued voice, “Right. We’ll return to Unthank.”
Wilkins and Munro straightened their backs and spoke in louder voices. Wilkins slid the paper into the portfolio and said, “Leave this with me, Hector. Monboddo will sign it.” Munro said, “They’d better not go without visas.”
“Give me the ink, I’ll stamp them.”
Munro unscrewed the silver knob from his staff (it was shaped like a pair of spread wings) and held it upside down. Wilkins stuck his thumb in the socket and drew it out with a glistening blue tip. Rima was leaning forward to watch and Wilkins dabbed his thumb at her forehead, making a mark between the brows like a small blue bruise. She gave a little shriek of surprise.
Wilkins said, “That didn’t hurt, did it? Now you, Lanark.” Lanark, too depressed to ask for explanations, received a similar mark; then Wilkins put his thumb in the knob a second time and brought it out clean. He said, “It’s not a conspicuous sign but it tells educated people that you’ve worked for the institute and are protected by the council. They won’t all like you for that but they’ll treat you with respect, and when Unthank falls you’ll have no trouble getting transport to Provan.”
Rima said, “Will it wash off?”
“No, only strong sunlight can erase it, and you won’t find that till you reach Provan. Goodbye.”
He walked away across the floor, diminishing toward the tiny distant